Sic Semper Tyrannis (29 page)

“How many?” grumbled the general as he buckled on his pistol belt.  “Walk with me.”

“Yes, sir.  At last count, there were 27 aircraft.”

“Twenty-seven?” blurted general Stapleton.  He stopped, hand on the doorknob.  “God in Heaven, they really slipped one past us.”

He threw open the door and stepped into his makeshift ops center.  “As you were,” he called out before any of the men and women could salute.  The hum of activity resumed as quickly as it had paused.  He marched over to the map of New York City on a table.

One finger on LaGuardia Airport, he said: “Twenty-seven planes—we talking cargo or airliners?”

“Can’t be sure, sir, but the report confirms they’re big,” replied Maj. Stafford.  “Best guess is at least a battalion.  Possibly brigade strength.  Likely some SpecOps, if they’re serious.”

General Stapleton rubbed his cheek.  He needed a shave, but that could wait.  “Ivan’s bringing in at least a brigade.  I would.”  He looked at the map.  “Twenty-seven planes…”  He looked up at his command staff, now clustered around the table.  “Opinions?  Speak up, people.”

A captain spoke up, “Sir, mounting an attack now—while they’re in transition—”

Stapleton shook his head.  “Our main column hasn’t arrived from Chicago.  We’d be running in half-cocked, and at a numerical disadvantage.”  He glanced at Stafford.

“ETA 1300 on the main column, sir.”

General Stapleton grunted and looked back to the captain.  “It’s a good idea, son, but an attack now would be suicide after that debacle yesterday.  They’re ready for us—and now that the Russians out-man us…” His finger followed the line of outposts drawn on the map along the Hudson River.

“If we could coordinate with the Air Force, it would change everything,” offered a major from the communications command.  She glared down at the map.  “Even with our main column, a frontal assault would be tight, sir.”

“Mmmhmm,” mused Stapleton.  “Tunnels create natural choke-points.”  He turned to Stafford again, “Get on the horn and have Colonel Vinsen double-time it.  I want his people here by 1100, no later.”

“Yes, sir—but they’ll burn a lot of fuel…”

Stapleton waved away the idea.  “We’ll find more.  We need those men and tanks and we need them
now
.  Ivan might decide to pay us a visit while we wait.”  He turned to the major from communications and read her ID strip.  “Major Winston, do everything you can to contact the fly boys and get us some air support.  They gotta be around here somewhere.”

“It’s still early, sir, they’re probably asleep,” she replied, straight-faced.  The collection of officers chuckled.

General Stapleton silenced everyone by clearing his throat.  “Spread the word, people.  I want every outpost on alert.  Tell the National Guard they’re gonna get some payback, today.”

“Sir!” called out an aide from the next desk.  “Incoming call for you.”  He held up the sat phone.

“Who the hell would be calling me on that thing at this hour?”

“They claim their calling on behalf of the President.”

“Jesus Christ, not
this
again.”  Stapleton rolled his eyes and made his way to the offered phone.

PRESIDENT SUTHBY WAITED PATIENTLY, the phone to his ear.  After an interminable pause in which he imagined the general was taking his sweet time out of spite, he finally heard the gruff voice of his rogue general. 

“Stapleton
.”

So much for pleasantries…

“Ah, general, good to hear from you.  I trust you’re doing well?”

There was a caustic laugh on the other hand.  “’
Trust I’m doing well’?  Who the hell is this?  Why do you keep bothering me?”

“This is the President of the United States,” Suthby said trying to keep his anger in check.  “You remember, your commander-in-chief?”

“
Oh, I think not
.”  The general barked another derisive laugh.  “
My commander-in-chief is President Reed.  When he died, my commander-in-chief became Vice President Jorgenson.  Since I have not heard from the Vice President, I intend carry out my orders as issued by President Reed
.”

“Ah, yes, orders.  That’s why I called you...”  Suthby leaned back in his chair.  How exactly was he going handle this?  Stapleton was determined to be a pain in his ass.  “Look, general, we both know—”

“
Sir, whoever you are—I have no interest in discussing anything with you.  You are not my commander-in-chief—I do not recognize you as such and in fact, you could very well be an agent of the enemy.   Neither I, nor my command staff have received valid authentication codes.  As far as I am concerned, this conversation is over
.”

Suthby had to act fast.  “General, listen to me before you hang up!  The United Nations is not here as part of some invasion!  The Russians are acting on
my
request to the United Nations General Assembly—”

“
Mister, that is precisely the reason why I will not listen to you or follow any of your orders.  Sounds like you already work for the Russians.  If you are who you say you are, then your actions are in direct violation of the Constitution and my oath of office
.”

Suthby fumed for a moment.  He stared in disbelief at the phone in his hand.  His eyes flicked up to the wall map that displayed the current crisis across the United States.  The red marks indicated destroyed cities, the orange zones proclaimed areas where power had finally been restored. In Arizona, a large collection of red marks told the tale of the Chinese running wild, while in Florida, half the state was colored in black where the Russians had taken complete control south of the Orlando-Tampa Line.

That blackness was now encompassing New York City as well.  Oh, how far he had to go to save the country.  
Will there be anything left to save if we keep going like this?
He pushed the thought aside and continued to work on the general.  He had to get the man to back down before everything in New York was irrevocably lost.   He just needed to give the Russians a little more time. 

“General please do not bring up the oath of office—”

“
Sir, I swore to uphold and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  Right now I’m staring at both, and they’re right across the Hudson sharing tea and crumpets.  Where you fit in is a question that I don’t have the time or the inclination to worry about at the moment.  Good day sir
.”

The line went dead with a
click
.  Suthby slammed the receiver down on his desk.  Stapleton was completely off the reservation.  Everything that he had worked so hard for over the past decade now hung in the balance and this one stubborn fool, a relic of the old way of doing things—a dinosaur really—was going to screw everything up.  Suthby fumed.  There
had
to be other options.

“Perhaps we can remove him from command?” suggested Daniel, seated across the executive desk with a note pad in his lap.

“And who would we replace him with?  This man is one of the most respected generals in the Army.  As far as the division he commands is concerned, he’s practically Patton himself.  They
love
the man.  Besides,” he said throwing a pencil at the ceiling, “if we ordered him to step down, do you really think he’d do it?”  Suthby shook his head. 

“He just hung up on the President of the United States—for the
second
time.  You name me one other man who has done that?  No,” Suthby said, steepling his fingers in thought.  “Whoever we tell to replace him will meet a chilly reception at best from the army outside New York.  What we have to do is find one of his subordinates that’s willing to accept my authority.”  He met Daniel’s eyes.  “Get your people working on it, pull up all the personnel files—use my clearance code to get anything you need.”

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel was such a good right-hand man.  He had always been willing to do anything Suthby had asked, even though he didn’t know the full scope of Suthby’s designs.  Perhaps the time to let him in on the big secret was at hand.  After all, if he was to have any kind of appreciable position in the new government, he may as well know what it’s all about.  Suthby considered this as he watched his lieutenant make notes.

“Sir, have you thought about other options?” asked Daniel without looking up.

Suthby raised an eyebrow.  “Other options?”

“Yes, sir.  I mean, you’re the legitimate President now, right?”  Daniel looked up from his notes.  “You command every aspect of the government.  You are the Chief Executive.  Correct?”

“Yes…” said Suthby, curious as to where the young man was headed.

“Well, why couldn’t we talk to the CIA and have them…I don’t know,
take care
of General Stapleton for us.”

Suthby sat in silence and watched Daniel watch him.  He had never been so proud of the young man.  There he was suggesting the CIA
assassinate
a popular American general for disobedience. 

Assassinated for disobedience.
  The thought ran through Suthby’s mind over and over.  He suddenly sat up and snapped his fingers.  “That’s it!”  He clapped his hands together and stood up.  “Daniel, you’re a genius!  Get on the horn—I want an APB on General Stapleton.  Make sure this hits the Press and especially the United Nations.  We’re declaring him a rogue general as of this moment.”  Suthby began to pace behind his desk, hands flying through the air as he talked. 

“Issue some kind of statement along the lines of we’re trying to cooperate with the United Nations—which we fully understand is only here to help us—and this General Stapleton is refusing to follow orders from his legally recognized—
internationally
recognized—Commander-in-Chief.”  Suthby turned and looked at Daniel “Hey, do you think we can do some sort of headhunter thing?  Put out a reward for his capture?  Maybe we can entice just the kind of replacement officer we want from within Stapleton’s ranks if we promise a promotion and a hefty pay raise for bringing him in?”

Daniel nodded and scratched more notes on his pad.  “I like it, I like it.  I can put something in there that will explain to people who know better that doing this would be a great way to gain favor with you.”

Suthby picked up his cup of coffee and winced as he tasted the cold liquid.  He pushed the button on the intercom, and said: “Shelly, would you have someone bring in some fresh coffee, please?”

“
Of course, sir.  I’ll be right there.
” said the eager young voice through the phone’s loudspeaker.

Suthby smiled as Daniel left the room on his new mission. 
Perhaps today will work out all right after all…

CHAPTER 20

Shots in the Dark

THE LIEUTENANT FOCUSED HIS attention on a figure illuminated on the ridge about two miles away.  The drone was orbiting high above, well out of range of human eyes.  The American terrorists had no idea they were being watched.

“There,” he said, pointing at the laptop screen resting on the fold-out desk built into the side of his vehicle. 

Colonel Xian Chun leaned over and peered into the box set up around the screen to reduce glare in the harsh light of this desert country.  He grunted.  “I see him.”  Unconsciously, Chun turned and looked up, though he knew he had no chance of spotting the drone circling up there in the cloudless sky.  “How long until it must refuel?”

The lieutenant grinned.  “It can stay up the rest of the day and all night as well.”

Chun nodded.  “Keep an eye on him.  I want to know where he goes.”

The lieutenant cleared his throat.  “Apologies, sir, but the forest on that slope is too dense.  We only spotted him when he appeared on that rocky outcrop.”

“Thermal?”

“Now that we know someone is there watching the town, we can try again when the sun goes down to track their movement.  Until then, we won’t know.  There’s too much background heat on the ground and rocks up there.”  The young lieutenant pointed again to the screen.  “And those pine trees there provide excellent cover.  These terrorists really know what they’re about.”

Chun glared at his subordinate until the younger man shifted his feet in uncomfortable awkwardness.  “Keep me informed.”

Captain Enlai Jan strolled up to Chun and saluted crisply.  “Sir, I processed your request to assault the building, but Beijing insists we wait for mission authorization.”

Chun cursed and removed his helmet. 
Damn it all this place is hot.   How do these Yankee devils stand it out here?  And so dry!
Squinting in the bright afternoon light, he glanced askew at his soldier.  “Was there a reason given for the delay?  Surely they do not think the information these terrorists might have is all
that
important?”

Jan stood in silent agreement.

The colonel sighed and replaced his helmet.  He moved a little away from the tech van and the lieutenant with his drone controls.  Jan followed, awaiting orders. 

“I do not like this waiting.  It invites our enemy to plan a counter-attack or plot a rescue attempt.”  Chun looked around the dead town, admiring the work his men did on the stubborn civilians.  Burned-out houses and piles of rubble as far as he could see in all directions but one, where the main municipal building stood defiant.  He smiled at the memory of watching the American flag cut free from the pole atop the ugly building.  In the slight breeze the Chinese flag fluttered gently now.

His instincts were telling him something wasn’t right.  It wasn’t safe to sit here babysitting a handful of men trapped in the basement of that building.  Their friends were watching his every move, gathering strength, he was sure of it.  From where, he knew not, but Chun was positive there would be a rescue attempt.  He just didn’t know
when
.

“Double the watch tonight.”

“Sir?  The men are already fatigued from our—”

“Captain, I did not ask for your opinion on the endurance of our soldiers.  I ordered you to double the watch tonight.  Is there some confusion as to my orders?”

Jan stiffened under the verbal rebuke and came to attention.  “No, sir.  I will double the watch, as you command.”

LANCE SLOWLY PUT DOWN his binoculars and picked up his bottle of water.  He glanced at his watch: 3:12 PM.  Almost time for his relief to show up.  He took another sip of the water, lukewarm from sitting out in the warm Arizona sun.  He slowly turned his head to the left and glanced down the Ridge towards where his relief would be approach.

He had been Overwatch all morning, keeping an eye on the Chinese soldiers who’d trapped Rob and the rest of the Regulators in the basement of Pine Bluff’s courthouse.  He was halfway up the mountain to the north, far enough to be out of range of any Chinese weapons, yet close enough that he could easily keep an eye on everything.

He cursed Rob's luck again.  It'd been 24 hours now since Rob had been trapped.  He knew it had been standard operating procedure for any Regulators going on patrol to take approximately 3 days’ worth of food supplies with them.  Hopefully Rob would escape before their supplies ran out.

Is he?  Is he really getting out?
  A voice pondered in the back of Lance's mind.  He also knew that Rob’s last order had been to gather up the rest of the Regulators and hightail it to the north, perhaps to link up with other resistance groups.

Are there other resistance groups?  Does anybody outside of Tucson even know that we’re fighting the Chinese? 

Lance shook his head. 
No
, he thought darkly. 
We’re alone in this.  If we try to up and leave—to spread the word about what’s going on—no one’s even going to know what we’re talking about.  The Chinese haven't made any wide-ranging expeditions.  Hell, folks in Flagstaff might not even know there's an invasion at all.

No, he had been right all along—there was no retreating from this.  To do so would only admit defeat and allow the Chinese to cut their forces effectively by a quarter.  To lose Rob would be… devastating.  The Regulators had grown to trust his judgment, trust his wisdom.  They would follow his lead unquestioningly.  Sure, Lance figured, as Rob’s right-hand-man since the get-go, the Regulators in time would learn to trust and follow him.  Lance frowned.   He had always been better as a second in command, not as a primary leader.

Lance picked up the binoculars and scanned the Chinese forces once more.  He didn't need to, really, as he had memorized their positions already.  They didn't move much.  There was still a couple APCs parked in front of the courthouse, their large 20 mm cannon pointing straight at the front doors.  There were still a few Chinese 4 x 4's parked in the back of the building.  He could see at least seven different sniper teams positioned on the rooftops surrounding the courthouse.  On the streets, the Chinese patrolled the entire area for about four blocks.  No one was getting in and certainly no one was getting out.

The latest development Lance witnessed was perhaps the most disturbing.  He shifted his gaze and turned the binoculars on the tall spire of the town’s church, perhaps five blocks away from the courthouse to the south.  As far as he could tell, it was the tallest building left standing.  It seemed to be where the Chinese had gathered the surviving townspeople. 

He was sure glad he wasn't stuck in that church.  The temperature had risen close to the 90° mark already.  All those people packed in that church—it had to be a hellish place at the moment.

Still, he mused, having the rest of the town locked up in one building—maybe two, if you count the parsonage next door to the church—forced the Chinese to split their men.

"RAF One to Overwatch, over."

Lance picked up his radio and adjusted the volume.  He keyed the mic and replied: "Overwatch, here, go ahead."

"ETA two minutes."

"Copy that."  Lance put the radio down and checked his rifle.  He settled back against the solid, cool trunk of a pine tree and laid the AR across his lap.

Lance grimaced.  It sure didn’t look too good for the home team.  At any given moment, the Chinese commander down there could order the destruction of the courthouse and all who hid inside.  Or the church.  Or both.  It was only a matter of time. 
He’s probably trying to get authorization from Beijing…

He swung the binoculars back to the van with the antennae and satellite dishes on top.  The soldier at the computer was still sitting there in the shade, peering at a box.  It had to be a drone control station.  There was no other reason why that officer had looked up into the sky after looking at the computer screen.  They were probably watching him right now, watching
them
.  The thought made his stomach roil and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

There honestly wasn’t a lot he could do about it either, Lance realized.  Even if all the runners who had been sent out brought back a hundred armed, trained, willing combatants each…that would give the Regulators, what, a thousand men?  Against armored personnel carriers, heavy weapons, trained soldiers and who knows what else the Chinese had down there?  He wondered idly if the drone they were using had missiles on board.  
That
would certainly throw a wrench into his plan.

No matter which way he puzzled it, the equation wasn’t balanced and the Regulators were on the losing end.  Rob was doomed.  The frustration turned into a heavy weight in Lance’s stomach.  His best friend, the closet thing he’d ever had to a real brother was trapped like a rat inside that courthouse surrounded by invading Chinese soldiers…

And the only cotton-pickin’ thing Lance had thought to do—besides disobey Rob’s final order—had been to raise the banners and call on every able-bodied American to rush to the defense of strangers.  To risk their lives and safety for…who?  Freedom fighters?  Fools?  Patriots?

Who the hell were the Regulators anymore?  Lance closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough bark of the pine tree.  It just wasn’t fair.  The Regulators had been formed in the first place to counteract the incompetence—and later the willful negligence—of the federal government and their lack of enforcement of border control laws. 

The Regulators had never been more than extra hands and eyes who’d not been required to let illegals go with an order to appear before a court.  No Executive Order could make them ignore the law.  They had been landowners, ranchers, concerned citizens from across the country, and they’d come to assist the real unsung heroes along the border: the Border Patrol agents who put their lives on the line day in and day out for a government that didn’t seem to want them.  And for a long time, the agents had been real thankful to have the assistance.

Now?  Lance opened his eyes and stared at the mostly destroyed husk of a town in the valley below.  Now the world had gone to shit and America was dying a brutal death right before his eyes.  Who cares if there were illegal immigrants when China had invaded and was destroying entire towns…for what?  Resources?  Revenge?  Some grand master plan that only a few men in suits on the other side of the world knew about?  Lance shook his head.

He imagined two dogs fighting, one injured and limping, the other aggressive and smelling blood.  America was injured—and bad—but she wasn’t down yet.  The Chinese were strong and willing to press the attack…they had proven that with the destruction of Pine Bluff.  So why were they waiting? Why not just wipe out the courthouse, bury everyone in it, and move on.

Movement down the ridge out of the corner of his eye drew Lance’s attention.  Nate was working his way carefully up the back side of the ridge, out of direct sight of the Chinese in town.  Inspiration struck Lance like a thunderbolt out of the clear desert sky.

They
know
Rob’s down there. They want him
alive
.  They want
info
.

Lance gripped his rifle with white knuckles as another thought drifted through his mind. 
Hallwood.  He sold us out.  Son of a bitch.  He must have made a deal with them—that’s why the civilians haven’t been harmed.

Nate arrived slightly winded and crept up next to Lance.  He propped his rifle against a sapling and leaned back against Lance’s tree.  “So what’s the word, boss?”

Lance never took his eyes off the courthouse.  “The Chinese are trying to wait ‘em out.  They want Rob alive,” he said, turning to face his fellow Regulator.

“Shit, that’s not good.”

“Yeah,” replied Lance.  It was all so obvious now.  If they could make Rob talk, they’d know where the rest of the Regulators were hiding…they’d move up the mountain in strength and…

“What do we do?  I got word before I left base that a big bunch of folks is comin’ up from what’s left of Tucson.  Those guys we met on the highway when we first came up here, I think.”

“That’s a start.”  Lance nodded to himself.  “That’s surely a start.  But we got to keep the Chinese from going in there after Rob.  We need to make ‘em look over their shoulders.”

Nate picked up Lance’s binoculars and peered at the remains of the town, crawling with invaders.  He whistled, a low mournful sound.  “Lot of ‘em down there.”

“Yeah.  I think it’s time we thinned the herd a little.”

Nate glanced at the new head of the Regulators.  “Yeah?  When?”

Lance smiled wolfishly.  “Tonight.”

JUST AFTER SUNSET, LANCE peered through a night vision scope attached to the captured Chinese sniper rifle.  It wasn't a crystal-clear image but it was better than squinting into the darkness.  He had assembled his teams and devised a battle plan and made sure everyone was as ready as possible. 
So why am I holding back?

There'd been some grumbling voices from the other Regulators—mostly worried about the overwhelming firepower they would be going up against.  But deep in their hearts, they all knew that what they were doing was not merely to strike a blow against the invaders, but to rescue Rob and their fellow Regulators.